


wedding bells call us to the alter

by jackgyeoms



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackgyeoms/pseuds/jackgyeoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mia and Roman are getting married, and Dom has unresolved feelings for the best man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wedding bells call us to the alter

**Author's Note:**

> this was just a random thing that came to me. No real inspiration from anywhere, other than i wanted to write Dom and Brian having to deal with wedding plans and being big children about their feelings.
> 
> beta'd by shep

 

There were many moments in Dom’s life where he was met with the stark reminder that his baby sister wasn’t a baby anymore. Make up, first dates, those two years at Lompoc where time had seemed to run fast for everyone but him. Yet none of these had thrown him through a loop. That was relegate to the Sunday that she had announced her impending marriage.

He’d met Roman before – no way in hell would it have gotten that serious without Dom having met and done a thorough shakedown – and he liked the guy well enough. Not the best boyfriend that Mia had ever liked enough to bring home, not the worst either. Roman was from his world, and maybe that’s what had made him wary – Mia would always deserve better – but he looked at her as if she hung the sky and what more could Dom ask for?

Thinking on it, it wasn’t all that surprising that Rome would pop the question, or that Mia would agree.

“Marriage, huh?” Dom brought up, hours later when slumber had taken willing victims and it was just the Toretto siblings. Dom rolled his beer between his palms and Mia leant against his shoulder. “It’s a big step.”

She breathed out, hummed. “It is.”

“You sure?” He asked, because he had to know himself.

Mia gave him this look. It was one that reminded him explicitly of their father, all eyebrow and pursed lips. It made his lips twitch upwards in amusement, and lift his bottle to take a gulp. He chuckled a little, didn’t push anymore. Instead, he rolled the name “Mia Allegra Pierce.”

Her lips pressed together and Dom laughed outright this time.

Mia looked a little sheepish. “We’re still discussing the name. I like being a Toretto.”

“You know, you’ll always be a Toretto, no matter what name you take.” Dom reminded her carefully, half worried if he had ever made her feel otherwise.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek affectionately. “I know, Dom,” she said teasingly, “But who knows? Maybe we’ll have another Toretto in name. Roman Toretto doesn’t sound that bad does it?”

Dom snorted, but decided not to rise to the bait.  He knew a trap when he saw one.

 

~

 

Mia’s wedding party was less than surprising. Letty had been dubbed maid of honour – something she had been pleased about at first, and then begrudging about when she realised just how much she was required to deal with the details of the wedding. Elena had been honoured with bridesmaid, as if with Letty involved her girlfriend had to be by extension. Rosa, one of Rome’s friends, and the current subject of Vince’s affections, had been granted that position too, just as Vince and Leon had been granted places in Rome’s. (Dom might have been as well, if it weren’t for Mia’s tearful request that he walk her down the aisle. It had pained him that he would get the duty that should have been their father’s honour, and muttered in Italian about how proud he would have been of her. If the Toretto siblings hugged each other for a little too long, no one dared comment on it).

But the position of best man, perhaps even less surprising than Mia’s choices, had been Brian O’Conner. Dom had met the man about as many times as he had Roman – they were practically attached at the hip, apparently had been since they were in elementary school. Dom would have made a comment on it, but he thought of Vince – who still slept in the basement room that had been his since Anthony Toretto had found out about the boy’s home life – and Letty, his ex, who currently shared the spare room with her girlfriend, and decided better of it.

Brian, Dom thought, was perhaps more of an enigma, more of a distraction, than he had ever expected him to be. He looked younger than he was, and back when he had first laid eyes on him Brian had been the personification of every California surfer stereotype. It had been easy to disregard him as someone safe, someone that he didn’t need to watch.

Funny how he could do nothing but now.

It was probably the race that had started it. Mia had mentioned that Rome, Brian, Tej and Suki, had a history with cars. Rome had robbed them, gone down for it for almost as long as Dom had. Hardly noteworthy, except that it explained that look in Rome’s eyes whenever he stepped into a room. Dom hadn’t lost his either. It had been Leon that suggested they join them at the races, and Vince had seconded. If he had cared, maybe he would have paid more attention to the look that was shared between the two, before they agreed.

When Brian declared that he wanted to race Dom, even put the pink slip up on his car, well, Dom wasn’t about to refuse an easy win. He had been the unbeaten king on the streets for nearly five years – in this game, that made you a legend. He had laughed and mocked, and Vince had spat barbs at him in a way that only Vince could, but Brian hadn’t been deterred.  He hadn’t even flinched. If there were nerves, they weren’t for the world to see. He lost, of course. Heavy on the clutch, too fast on the NOS. Nearly killed himself with the amount he had jammed into the import he was driving.  But even after his car spluttered its way over the finish line, Brian hadn’t stopped smiling. It was infectious, had Dom smiling in a way that had nothing to do with his win.

“Why you so happy?” he had answered, and the reply of “dude, I almost had you” had been enough to bring laughter to the surface. The audacity of it, really. And yet strangely, even for all the posturing, even for the “winning is winning” speech he had used to take the blond’s smugness down a peg, that was enough to have his attention. Letty had once said that it took a lot, not to make Dom care, but to make him care enough. There were girls and guys that his eyes would linger on, but it was rare that they stayed long enough to mean anything. With Brian, there was too much meaning.

It made it hard to concentrate on fabric swatches and colour palette – things he already lacked an interested in and would have avoided if Mia hadn’t asked for him to be involved. Dom suspected he was taking on the role of mother and father here, and wisely kept his distaste for the whole thing quiet. His sister drew Rome into the preparations, and since he dare not refuse, he brought Brian with him, perhaps to share in the suffering. Not that the blond acted as if he was. He seemed quite content in giving his opinion when asked, was more decisive and involved than Dom or Rome could ever be. Mia seemed impressed, Rome relieved, and Dom was too invested in the smile that only faltered when his lips were pressed together in consideration.

He’d been a few seconds delayed in answering twice now. Rome was watching him too close, enough to make Dom wondering whether he knew. Mia, he didn’t have to wonder. Her eyes would slide between him and Brian periodically, and that smile was just too knowing – too much _trouble_ – for it to be a coincidence. Brian had only looked to him once, had grinned and asked, “Where’s your head, man?”

With the option of ‘on you’ off the table, Dom had given some half arsed excuse, something about not sleeping well, that had Mia barely suppressing a snort and Roman pulling a disbelieving face. Brian quipped back, “maybe you need a nap? Don’t want you to get cranky”, and wasn’t it a bad sign that drew him in more.

Later, Mia would tell him that his flirting needs work, her amusement for the situation clear in her voice. He’d reply back, “I wasn’t flirting”, a blatant lie but one that his sister would let him live with, however temporary it may be, with just a low and unconvinced hum. He wondered, somewhere, whether Roman and Brian were having a similar conversation. He almost hoped so.

 

~

 

Mia decided on white and gold. Roman agreed a tad too fast, less from enthusiasm and more just to get her to stop. But it made her smile, wide and gleeful, as if by having that first step decided it made everything more real. Rome decided then that white, gold, green, red, whatever she wanted, she would get.

 

~

 

Dom had three hours preparation before he was bundled into his car, lead down the highway, and forced over the threshold of the tailors. A rental place would have been just as fine, but as Rome said, “If Mia gets to buy some expensive dress to walk down the aisle, I gotta get a little something something, you feel me?”

Dom was pretty sure that the white tuxedo that Rome insisted on trying on first wasn’t the kind of thing that Mia had in mind.

It suited him though, Dom would at least give him that, the colour as bright as his smile and contrasted off his skin. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, said something about feeling like a nineties billionaire – “all I need my bunny and I’m get to hit Vegas,” he chortled, enjoyment fading quickly to nervous horror when Dom arched an eyebrow and questioned whether Roman was calling his sister a bunny.

Brian snorted behind his hand and when Dom glanced towards him, he saw the way his eyes shone so brightly with his mirth. It made it all too easy to smirk back.

It was Han’s idea for black tuxedos with gold details. When it got to the point where Dom was peering out the window at his car, and the pros were beginning to drastically outweigh the cons for just getting in and leaving this nightmare behind, Han huffed his frustrations and pushed what appeared to be a random three piece into Roman’s chest.

“Put it on,” he ordered.

It was hard to disobey the Korean when he sounded that irritable.

Black tuxedos worked, even if they did make Dom feel like an overdressed penguin. The last time he had worn a suit had been at his father’s funeral – and he firmly pushed that thought aside. He didn’t wish to connect his sister’s happy day to that none so pleasant one. The one he tried on with too tight on his shoulders and too lose on the legs, the shirt was a size too small and the buttons threatened to burst. Vince bellowed laughter as soon as he saw him, Roman not far behind. Tej attempted to keep his expression schooled, Han’s lips twitched upward into a passive smile. Brian barked a noise suspiciously like a laugh before rolling his lips together to stop anything further. But he watched too closely, and Dom watched back, tried not to feel awkward and out of place.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “Laugh it up, dipshits.”

He tugged aggressively on the bottom of the jacket, and the tailor fluttered nervously behind the group, as if he expected the fabric just to tear under the pressure. Spitefully, Dom kind of wished it would.

“It’s not that bad,” Brian tried. “Just…a bigger size?” he looked to the tailor, whose head bobbed in eager agreement.

Dom scowled down at himself, and tried not to flex too much.

For Mia, he reminded himself like a mantra while measurements were being taken. It was uncomfortable, having a stranger’s hands upon his person, pressing close in a way that only those he trusts get to. For Mia, he says as he stands there, stock still, follows instructions for lifts and twists as efficiently as possible just to get this over and done with as soon as possible. The man nervously said that it was time to do the inseam, and Dom nodded jerkily, breathed out heavily through his teeth and purposely doesn’t look down when the man moved onto his knees.

But not looking down meant that he was looking at Brian. The man stared back with intensity that Dom hoped he could return, just so Brian could get to share in the experience of a chill curling up his spine; of feeling warmth in the very pit of his stomach; of being hyperaware of every breathe, every twitch of movement.

A hand pressed to his ankle, and Dom used that as an excuse to look away, lest the lust in his bones become more visible to those around him. Of all the times to get hard, now was not one of them. He lowered his eyes to the floor, to a random space just before any glimpse of Brian was to be had, but he could see feel those eyes burning into the top of his head. He wondered, if he didn’t religiously shave the strands from his head, would they so easily pierce him.

They were worse up close, Dom found. Brian had been fumbling with his bowtie, frowning down at the gold piece of fabric like it was a teenager’s first bra and the entire workings of the contraption were lost on him. It was endearing, enough that Dom had chuckled and without thinking, batted hands out of the way so he could do it himself.

He couldn’t back away, wouldn’t even if he wanted to - that was too much like running – so he kept his face neutral. Tried to pretend that having the blond so close didn’t mean anything, didn’t feel like anything. His fingers were steady, because he would have never let them shake, but Brian looked at him as if he could see through that. Avoiding didn’t last long, when curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes flickered up and were glued there. Brian was smiling at him, wide and goofy as it was always. Fucking arsehole looked unassuming, still looked like easy pickings, and even knowing that wasn’t true, Dom could have been persuaded.

His hands lingered, even after Brian had murmured, “Thanks” and Dom had muttered back his reply. It took an exasperated Tej calling Brian over to help him deal with Rome, who in general Roman fashion was being difficult about the suit choice – “he’s your boy, Bullit,” the man washed his hands of the situation.

“Why is he always my boy when he’s being an ass?” Brian questioned, but his voice held laughter and fondness, and he slipped away from under Dom’s hands with only a small look of regret cast backwards. Dom let his hands fall to the sides, and pretended they didn’t feel considerably colder without Brian there.

Han stood in the space that Brian had just vacated, hovered and watched the blond take control in a way that only he could. He didn’t say anything, but Dom knew he was waiting too, so he wasn’t too startled by the smooth voice saying, “I hope you aren’t trying to be subtle.”

Dom made a noncommittal noise.

Han hummed, bobbed his head in understanding. “Ah, so you’re not, not yet anyways. What’s taking so long?”

Dom rolled his shoulders.

“If you’re waiting for the right time, a wedding is a good one,” Han suggested, “Love is in the air and all that.”

Dom didn’t move, and Han continued on, “Unless, of course, you don’t have the balls to try and get what you want.”

Eyes darted towards him sharply, and Han smiled back faintly. He clapped his larger friend on the shoulder, something that seemed distinctly pitying, and made Dom narrow his gaze. He would have said something – something about it not being about having the guts, it was about – what was it about? About not ruining his sister’s wedding? About avoiding drama? About knowing and not knowing himself all in equal measure? About lust, not love? Love, not lust? – but Roman stumbled out of the dressing room, unsteady on his feet and shouting back defeat at Brian beyond the curtain.

He peeked his head around the fabric, and laughed, teased, made Roman grumble and then smile, wrap his arms around his bro’s shoulder, and call out to tell the tailor that a decision had been reached.

Mia would have pleased, Dom thought distantly.

 

~

 

Mia came home with a smile on her face, and excitedly declared that she had found The Dress. Capital letters and everything. Roman had dropped a kiss to her head and dutifully ummed and ahhed in the right places, with the truth in his words when he said, “I can’t wait to see you in it baby”.

Letty bitched about having to wear a dress at all, but didn’t seem half as convincing in her complaint as she had been when she left. Rosa gushed about the lace and the twirl, and Vince watched her with avid interest, hanging on every detail as if it might hold a secret easily missed.

Dom watched his family warmly, nursed a Corona in his right hand, his left arm flung over the back of the sofa. He thought about how easy it would be to touch. Brian wanted him to.

 

~

 

Brian organised the stag party for three weeks prior to the wedding. When asked why, he said, “Because Mia wouldn’t be happy with cuts and bruises on her wedding day”. Vince said it felt a bit like overkill, but one reminder of the last time they’d all gone out, just the boys, drinking and he quickly revaluated the situation.

“We won’t let it get that bad,” Dom swore to Mia, who looked didn’t look comforted by the promise. There was no doubt that before her eyes visions of bar fights and jail cells and broken arms that had been the source of much bitching in the weeks that followed. Dom instinctively tensed the muscle in his leg, a memory from before. He shook that feeling away and reiterate the promise, firmer this time.

“Are there going to be strippers?” Letty questioned over the top of a car magazine. Her feet were resting in Elena’s lap, who glanced up at the question as if to stare the answer out of the group. She could do it too.

Rome pressed a hand to his chest, looked mock offended. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“A dog,” Rosa quipped, smirked at her friend.

Roman sniffed, tugged on the collar of his jacket. “A soon to be married one. I ain’t risking losing my balls before the wedding night, ya feel me?” he laughed boisterously, sobered up by the look on Dom’s face and the fear quickly stolen by Mia’s arms on his shoulders and lips against his cheek.

“Looking but no touching,” she granted.

Although it was teased, they bypassed the strip club for the quiet bar on the corner. They’d been there before, only a handful of times, but it was close to an empty lot that hosted a few races, and a few blocks from the house. No cars required. A better opinion, it was decided – less change of causing injury.

Stories were told. Brian and Roman told stories from their childhood, voices rising over each other in competition to tell “what actually happened, shit, Brian, you’re exaggerating – it did not go down like that, it was like this okay…” It wasn’t anything new, but there was something about this night, about knowing what it meant, about feeling like so much of his history is behind them but so much more to come. Dom wondered whether he had always been so sappy, chuckled and took a drag of his Corona.

Brian’s knee nudged his own, grew Dom’s attention from Rome and Vince’s animated argument. The rim of the beer bottle was pressed against his lips, stretched into a smile, and muffled the words, “they’re like children”.

Dom’s lips twitched upwards. “Does that make us the babysitters?” He joked, adjusted his leg until the toe of his boot tapped the side of Brian’s. His foot moved closer.  Brian’s eyes seemed to sharpen then.

Brian hummed. “Well, someone’s got to make sure they don’t kill each other.”

“Mia doesn’t pay us enough for that,” Dom shot back.

Smiles widened.

Beside Dom, Tej watched the two and rolled his eyes. He muttered something about stupid men and empty fuel tanks for brains. Han muttered agreement, before downing his drink and loudly declaring that it was time for the next round. His eyes went to Dom and arched an eyebrow questioningly.

Dom had been drawn by the voice, and smirked at the look. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, “I got this. Corona?”

Vince held up his half empty beer bottle, too engrossed in his argument to even give Dom more than that. He cuffed his head on the way around the table in response.

“I’ll help,” Brian volunteered quickly, standing up, sending his chair scrapping backwards loudly.

“Yeah you will,” Tej snorted.

Rome reached out to clap him on the back, encouraging. Brian tried not to visibly react to it, but that face, as expressive as it could be, as much as Dom had admittedly spent watching it, it was almost too easy to take in the nerves, the hesitation, the interest. Their eyes met and Dom cracked a smile. He angled his head backwards, towards the bar, where Brian pressed too close. Not close enough.

Six Coronas. But even with the drinks ordered, they didn’t move away immediately. Lingered. Letting the slightly busy line of customers awaiting their drinks draw them together. Brian spoke about nothing, and yet Dom hung on every word.

Dom swirled the last of his drink at the bottom of the bottle, surprised that much time had passed in no time at all. They should get back, he vaguely said, but it was all too easy to reach for the next drink and continue. If Brian noticed, he didn’t say anything, just continued talking.

“I still can’t believe my boy’s getting married,” Brian commented, shook his head a little when he laughed, sending the growing ends of blond curls shaking.

“I can’t believe my sister’s getting married,” Dom responded, “3 weeks. Shit man.”

Brian said carefully, “Unbelievable, huh?”

He shrugged a little, took a sip of his drink. “She was a baby and then I blinked and,” he shrugged again.

“Mia’s a good woman. Good for Rome. He’s better with her I guess – she doesn’t put up with his bullshit,” Brian added, making Dom laugh a little, adding, “And ain’t that a fucking miracle.”

Laughed. Smiled. Drag of drink.

“I’m happy for her,” Dom murmured. “For them both. Wish our parents could have seen it.”

There was a pause, and a hand wrapped around his elbow. Squeezed, and Brian’s smile was tinged with sadness. “They’re watching from where they are.”

“You don’t believe that,” Dom stated.

“But you do,” Brian reminded, “That’s enough.”

It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Winded and painful and warm. Like he wanted to curl around his body and protect himself from the ache he felt. Maybe that showed in his eyes, because the pads of Brian’s fingers rubbed into the skin, brought goosebumps to the surface. If anything, that made him feel more vulnerable.

He swallowed around nothing, flicked his tongue across his dry lips. “You’re something, you know that Brian.”

Brian hummed. “Is that…a compliment?”

“If you want it to be,” Dom allowed.

“I do,” he decided, and Dom huffed a laugh, amused. Brian grinned in responded, pleased with himself.

The hand slipped away from his arm, left the space cold. Dom clenched around nothing, tried to bring the heat back to his limbs. He failed.

“So how many of these,” Brian questioned, shook his beer bottle a little, “is it going to take for you to kiss me?”

The words startled. All the avoiding, walking the edges, the long looks and no moves being made, it was something all too different. The urge to just laugh it, to make some kind of joke and return to the familiar, was there. He considered it for a moment, perhaps for too long, watched the look on Brian’s face that wavered between anxious and hopeful, hardened at the edges the longer he had to wait for an answer.

Dom tried to be cool about it. “Don’t need to be drunk to kiss you.”

Eyes lingered. “Yeah?” he tried to sound nonchalant and failed just about as much as Dom had. His fingernails picked at the edge of the Corona label absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” Dom rumbled.

Brian rolled his lips, trying to hiding a smile. Failed. Dom put his drink to his lips, smirked against the glass top.

There was a frustrated noise from behind them, had the two jerking, pulling away from each other, spun their heads around to lay eyes on a rather exasperated looking Tej. His reached out for the bottles, still full, and gave them both similar disappointed looks.

“Just kiss, for fuck’s sake,” he sighed, and left, disappeared into the crowd.

Dom felt heat on the back of his neck. Brian smothered a laugh into his shoulder.

Dom cleared his voice, stood up a little straighter, wrung his hands around the bottle, and said, “We should probably do as he says.”

“Probably,” Brian mocked, but was beaming when he reached out to put his hands on Dom’s cheeks. They seared almost as much as his lips did when they finally met. Bodies touched, noses bumped, Dom’s eyelashes fluttered to rest on his cheekbones. Brian moaned, breathless and eager. Dom held on tighter, and decided then that he wasn’t ever letting go.

 

~

 

Mia looked like royalty in her dress. Floor length, in at the waist, lace along the neck line. Dom hadn’t known what to say when he saw her, not when she had looked at him with her smile so big that it looked like it hurt her cheeks, her eyes squinted with excitement, a bounce in every step she took to approach him. She did a twirl, and raised her arms, presented herself to him as if to ask, “so?”

He held her hands in his, still so much smaller than his own, like they had always been, and told her simply, “You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks were red this close, naturally so, and Dom pressed a kiss there, before he drew her into a hug. The siblings clung to each other as if it were the last one they would ever get – and in a sense, Dom supposed, that was true. As soon as she left this room, as soon as she got in the car, got to the church, walked down that aisle, everything would be different.

There would be another Mr. and Mrs. Toretto. Ones that weren’t his parents. It felt strange. It felt right.

He muttered in Mia’s ear how proud their mama would have been, how their daddy would have cried seeing his little girl all grown up. She laughed a sob, elbowed her brother in the stomach. “Don’t make me cry, I don’t want my make up to run,” she ordered, fingers wiping under her eyes.

Dom laughed, promised as he knew he was supposed to, and ignored the fact his voice broke with heavy emotion.

“You ready?” he asked lowly. A second of hesitation, and Dom would call the whole thing off, but Mia only nodded, took a deep breath and smiled. Wide. Honest.

“Let’s do this.”

 

~

 

The wedding was beautiful. Dom knew a lot of people said that, but he felt, in his insistence, it was true. Mia had been glowing, hadn’t been able to stop grinning from the moment they began their walk down the aisle. Rome had reacted appropriately – gobsmacked and stumbling through his vows, an uncharacteristic show of nerves that, if anything, probably made Mia surer of her choice. Rosa had teared up a little, and Dom definitely was not with her, blinking away the stung in his eyes. Brian had spent the entire ceremony with a stupid little grin on his face, and had been the first to follow Letty in whooping their joy when the minister finally pronounced them “husband and wife”.

The reception was back at the house, because that’s how Mia had always wanted it. Dom didn’t mind spending most of the beginning at the grill – because there wasn’t anyone else he’d trust with it, old as it was - not where Mia was concerned. His speech was short and sweet, because he’d never been too good at speeches. A lot of gushing about how Mia had been as a child – wild as only a Toretto could be, smart as a whip, a fighter through and through – muttered about how she’d had to deal with a lot, being his sister, and making Mia’s eyes water when she reached out to squeeze his forearm comfortingly. He finished up with threats, and hope for the future.

Brian went next, did his best man thing. He spoke about how Mia and Roman had first met, an idealised story but close enough to the truth that Roman didn’t try to interject and Mia was laughing outright with the rest of the room. He spoke of how he had no idea how that meeting would end with them here, all together, married of all things.

“I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone brave enough to find something permeant and binding with this arsehole right here,” Brian teased, ran his hand over Roman’s head affectionately, laughed when the man batted his friend’s hand away with a noise of complaint, “and I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I’d trust anyone to look after him, but I do trust you Mia. A hell of a lot. So I’m giving you my boy here, you better take care of him – I’ll take care of yours.”

Blue eyes, intense with his solemn vow, landed on Dom and stayed, even as he muttered the ending of his toast, rose his glass and drank with the rest of the room. The words warmed in his chest, spiralled out until all the cold edges of himself – the parts no one had been to for years, not even Dom himself – seemed to heat. It simmered and settled, comfortable.

Yours. Mia’s, and Brian’s, just as Rome was. Dom’s lips tugged into a smile. Yeah, alright, he was okay with that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feedback is welcome!
> 
> i have tumblr, [domtorctto](http://gladers.co.vu) (if you have any prompts for other fast and furious fics that you want me to write, just leave me a message here, and I can get to work!)


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